


Losing My Grip

by Chromi



Series: Deuce-centric [4]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Mild S&M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, The Author Regrets Nothing, Topping from the Bottom, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21810403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chromi/pseuds/Chromi
Summary: "This blunder, this almost irreparable flaw, had come close to seeing that the most recent bounty hunter to utter his glee to be challenging Fire Fist Ace and his massive pay-out almost died. And not by Ace’s hand, either."Or: in which Deuce's jealousy finally shows itself.
Relationships: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace
Series: Deuce-centric [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576678
Comments: 17
Kudos: 71





	Losing My Grip

**Author's Note:**

> A short break to blow off some steam while working on Arrhythmia. Deuce's jealousy when that bounty hunter yelled he loved Ace in the novel was _delicious_. I do love me a possessive, angry first mate.

Limits were made to be surpassed, Ace said. Limits were created to give you something to reach, something to grasp in your bare hands and dismantle in a bid to prove your worth to yourself, your peers, your enemies. Limits were more like a goal in Ace’s mind, something to destroy and go beyond.

In Deuce’s world, however, limits were there for safety. There to stop him – and others – from getting hurt, or taking on more than possible. Never to be ventured near, if he was honest.

Two very different takes on the same issue. Two outlooks, two views, applied to a singular incident.

In this case, the incident being Deuce’s temper. Or, specifically, Deuce’s temper when faced with _yet another_ bounty hunter declaring his undying affections for Ace.

Indeed, each time had in fact been incited by Ace’s completely unnatural bounty and nothing more. Here was a fresh new rookie ready to fill their pockets with gold – an easy target, surely, for these experienced bastards. An error had been made, perhaps, in the printing of his posters. There was no way someone as new as Ace could be worth _that_ much, right?

Wrong.

And wrong again in their continuous assumptions that he would be easy pickings.

Or that he didn’t sport an over-protective first mate who would not hesitate to turn borderline sadistically violent the instant he heard anyone use the word _love_ around him.

This blunder, this almost irreparable flaw, had come close to seeing that the most recent bounty hunter to utter his glee to be challenging Fire Fist Ace and his massive pay-out almost died. And not by Ace’s hand, either.

Deuce had given up trying to hide it from Ace, from the others. So what if they knew how badly it affected him, hearing nobodies proclaim an emotion that they and their bare handful of braincells could only dream of feeling for Ace? Deuce could live with the ridicule, the jokes, the whistles from the others after he finished snarling at the hunter in question to _get off this ship_ before throwing them by the neck into the sea below.

What he couldn’t live with was the thought of anyone – _anyone –_ ever getting close to Ace in any capacity. Truth be told, he even struggled when _Kotatsu_ flopped on Ace and purred like an engine.

But he didn’t care.

Not anymore.

Not when he gave voice to his innermost filthy hatred, let it twist and bend like supple muscle helping curve his captain’s spine, allowed it to drip from his tongue to pool in the navel of Ace’s quivering abdomen. Words of possession, promises of splintered bone and severed arteries and shredded muscle bit into Ace’s neck, his chest, his grinning lips, drank down hungrily when pressed against his tongue. For no measures would be spared when it came to guarding his captain – no one, not hunter nor Yonko nor even Celestial Dragon, could begin to entertain the thought of resection when fused this tightly.

“ _You’re mine,_ ” was hissed against Ace’s saliva-slickened lips, breath hot with the glow of a rage that was barely repressed, dominating and commanding and easing a moan of pure _indulgence_ from Ace, “aren’t you, _captain?”_

Breath stuttered in Ace’s lungs; hips rolled up into the unrelenting pressure gloved around his cock, his fingers drawing angry red lines down the tops of Deuce’s thighs; and still the fingers – so possessive, requiring he give one answer and that answer alone, as if he could _ever_ contemplate uttering something in direct conflict with his own keen submission into Deuce’s longing – dug into his neck, constricted his carotids, paved the way for sparks in his vision and a choked off bubble of a laugh.

“ _Yours_ ,” Ace could barely whisper, yet he meant it with everything he was. Body, soul, mind, matter – everything. And Deuce knew it.

This was where Ace belonged— where he confessed without guidance that he could die happy being. Sprawled supine and naked, sweaty, buried to the hilt inside the first mate who would gladly – _intentionally, willingly_ – give his life for him. Carving great sweeping strokes of furious crimson down shuddering thighs, arched back, biceps stiff with the effort of retaining his posture in caging his captain between his knees and elbows, his almost palpable lust borne from the most vulgar of _jealousy_.

“If I _ever_ hear one of those lowlifes suggest they feel anything but contempt for you—” a great, rolling moan interrupted Deuce’s threat, caught _perfectly_ inside and paralysing him momentarily; his evidence dripped steadily to Ace’s sweat-drenched skin – so _close_ , _almost there_ – “then I swear on my life I will end theirs.”

It wasn’t an idle threat. They never were. Deuce never could do _subtle_ in the way that Ace could.

He would not relent on this issue. He would not bend and cave, nor entertain social pressure and allow others’ insistences that he was taking this too far to stay his hand. The wills and wants of the world were of no concern to Deuce – nothing mattered but keeping Ace safe.

Keeping Ace as his.

All his.

His limit had been reached; the safety of others – not his own – was under threat of being compromised.

And may God have pity on the souls of those who ventured into his path henceforth.

Of those who made any attempt to get between the fiery rookie captain and his equally terrifying first mate.

**Author's Note:**

> Massive thanks to my friends who put up with me screeching about Deuce on a daily basis ;)
> 
> Anyone else wanna screech with me? I'm on [Tumblr](https://aishitekuretearigatou.tumblr.com/) if you want to come say hi!
> 
> Comments and kudos let me know if I'm doing something right, and I always love your feedback!


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